Paint It Red
by Parnassus
Summary: The night following the murder of Madam Red, Sebastian seeks to remedy the toll the events have taken on his young master.


**SUMMARY:** **The night following the murder of Madam Red, Sebastian remedies the toll the events of the day have taken on his young master.**

 **WARNINGS: Dark themes. May be in danger of becoming a series of one-shots.**

 **NOTE:** **This is not my usual fare. However many of the same elements are present and accounted for. I couldn't help myself. I fell in love with Sebastian. Or J. Michael Tatum's voice...either way. And for anyone reading who has no clue what's happening, these characters are extremely British.**

 **Without further ado...**

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The nightmares were nothing out of the ordinary, predictable in fact.

Even the nights that weren't filled with crimson slaughter and mayhem would frequently end with the young master's cries echoing throughout the hallways.

This evening had been especially eventful. Madam Red, the young earl's sole surviving relation, had been torn to shreds before his eyes by an overly zealous, impossibly ridiculous reaper. No one could blame the boy for indulging in a momentary lapse of sanity.

Sebastian had been anticipating some sort of breakdown. He simply couldn't be certain of when it might occur. After all, the child had been displaying symptoms of shock upon their return home. The boy had been unusually quiet, hands shaking practically to pieces and lips tinged with blue.

His solemn eyes had been dazed, boring holes through nothing in particular. Between slow, heavy-lidded blinks he seemed to be struggling with consciousness. It was understandable. No doubt the experience had dredged up quite a few traumatic memories.

He made no protest when Sebastian carried him to the bath and peeled away the stained clothing, only shivered as the butler used a cloth to wash away all traces of the gory mess with gentle circular motions and soft instructions.

He hadn't said a word as Sebastian tucked him into bed and bid him goodnight. The butler made a point of promising, albeit ironically, that everything would seem far more cheerful when the sun rose. A tiny sniff was the only response that was forthcoming.

It was precisely the middle of the night when Sebastian detected the first evidence of the boy's distress. He sighed to himself, marked his place in the volume he had been perusing, and refastened the buttons on his collar. He lit a candle and followed the pitiable noises to the master's chamber.

Ciel _was_ in bed, however he was up on all fours, the sheets tangled and strewn over the floor, obviously they had lost the brawl. His small frame trembled between heaving gasps. He didn't seem to hear Sebastian enter.

The butler frowned, shaking his head at the state of the young lord. Noting the signs of an impending panic attack.

"Oh dear, I see you've gone and worked yourself up, young master."

The boy startled at the sound of his butler's voice, scrambling back against the headboard. He wrapped his skinny arms around his stomach, coughing as he attempted to regain control and compose himself.

"Wha-," the boy hiccupped. "What are you doing here? I didn't summon you."

"No," the butler agreed. "However I sensed that my assistance might be required and it seems I was correct. You don't look well, my lord."

"I'm fine."

The butler crossed over to the bed, seating himself beside the panicked child. He reached in his pocket for a handkerchief. Placing one gloved hand around the nape of Ciel's neck, he carefully dabbed at the stream of tears.

"Hmm," Sebastian hummed. "I don't think so." He removed the glove from his right hand and brushed his palm lightly over Ciel's forehead. "However you don't seem to be running a temperature."

The boy would often spike fevers on especially bad nights.

Sebastian knew Ciel despised the gesture and repressed a smirk as the boy batted his hand away.

"I – I don't require anything. Please go away."

Sebastian smiled, not unkindly, noting how violently the young lord's teeth were chattering, the angry streaks staining his flushed cheeks. He was rocking aimlessly, eyes watering with fresh tears.

"As you wish," Sebastian sighed, bowing slightly as he withdrew to the door.

"Sebastian?" the small voice called after him, just as he suspected it would.

"Yes, my lord?"

"As long as you're here," Ciel was a bit steadier, sounding more like his usual self. He wiped at his eyes but refused to look up. "You might as well bring me some tea."

"Of course, master," Sebastian adopted a gentle tone, acknowledging the unspoken request to stay. "Any particular preference?"

Ciel shook his head, sniffing rather pitifully.

"One moment, my lord," assured Sebastian.

The butler retrieved chamomile with steamed milk and honey in record time. He returned to find Ciel much in the same position; huddled against the headboard, wrapped into a tight little ball of twitching anxiety.

"There now," Sebastian soothed as he handed the steaming cup to the earl. "Drink it slowly, master."

Ciel brought the cup to his lips, glaring at Sebastian's orders. As if to prove he was still the one in charge he took a large gulp of the liquid and swallowed. He tipped back the cup, draining the rest of the tea and handed it back to his butler.

Sebastian chuckled quietly, infinitely amused by the young master's stubborn antics. He set the cup back on the tray and busied himself with tidying up the room.

"You've made quite a mess of the bed sheets," Sebastian _tsked_ as he reached down for them. "Let's straighten this up a bit, shall we?" He began humming a pleasant melody that reverberated deep in his throat as he gathered the strewn bedclothes and retrieved fresh ones from the closet.

"Come now, up you get," he instructed as he spread the quilt on the bed with a practiced flourish. Ciel stood beside him, watching dully as the butler tucked in the corners with the efficiency of a drill sergeant.

"Sebastian?"

"What is it, my lord?" The butler stopped fluffing the feather pillows long enough to glance down at the earl.

The boy looked as if he was standing only through sheer strength of will. His hands trembled, fingers digging into his thighs. His pale face had assumed a sickly ashen pallor.

"Do you think –" Ciel swallowed, once then twice. "Could you find my aunt in Hell if you were to look?"

Sebastian frowned, "Why do you ask?"

"Just answer the question," Ciel snapped, though he couldn't seem to muster much authority behind the words. In fact, his voice wobbled with what Sebastian could only deduce was fear.

"I suppose so," Sebastian replied. Ciel said nothing. The silence stretched into the flickering darkness. The butler knelt before the child, tilting his head quizzically. "Is that an order, young master?"

"She wasn't all bad, you know," Ciel whispered, his thin body swaying as though on the verge of collapse. "I remember she brought sweets for my mother's birthday. She picked out a chocolate elephant for me because she knew it was my favorite animal. My mother's was a dolphin. My father's…"

Sebastian reached out, placing a steadying hand on the boy's shoulder as he tipped forward.

"She was always smiling," Ciel continued, unaware of the hiccupping gasps catching in his tight throat. "She didn't hate me. She didn't."

Ciel grabbed unconsciously at Sebastian's shirt, twisting the fabric with both hands. His stuttering breaths sounded painful.

"You ought to calm down," Sebastian gently urged. He was growing a bit concerned in spite of himself.

"But I can't help hating her," the boy hissed. "She had a choice and she chose wrong. I hope s-she's burning there. I hope she's suffering. I hope – I …"

Ciel was suddenly on his knees, choking and wheezing. He clung to Sebastian, rapidly blinking watery, terrified eyes. "Sebastian…I c-can't breathe." A moment later he retched. Sebastian's pants absorbed most of the saliva.

"That's quite enough," the butler's voice was soft as he picked the boy up and headed to the washbasin. Ciel promptly vomited, arching against Sebastian as the butler held him up. He pulled the shaggy hair away from Ciel's face just as the tea made an unpleasant reappearance.

The boy gagged over the bowl a while longer before settling down against Sebastian's chest.

"You're all right," Sebastian crooned, wiping sweaty strands of hair from Ciel's forehead. Indeed, the young master seemed to be breathing much easier, no longer fighting for every breath. "I do believe I told you not to drink so fast."

"Shut up," Ciel growled weakly and tried to pull away. Sebastian allowed him to do as he pleased and watched, bemused, as the boy staggered, falling to his knees beside the bed. "It's…it's just this damned asthma."

"You really shouldn't upset yourself like this, my lord. After all, what good does it do you now?"

"None at all," Ciel agreed venomously. He was disgusted at his weakness, especially in the presence of Sebastian. The demon was probably enjoying seeing him in such a compromised state. He pulled himself to his feet and collapsed into the clean sheets.

Sebastian let the boy be for a moment as he disposed of the soiled basin. He returned with a glass of water and a cold cloth. Ciel glared but deliberately said nothing as Sebastian sat down beside him and offered to help him drink.

"Really, sir," the butler mused as the young earl begrudgingly complied. "What am I to do with you?" His words were fond rather than reprimanding, however.

To his disgust, Ciel found that he was inexplicably comforted by them. Perhaps they reminded him of something his father would've said.

"I'm tired," he slurred after a few sips of water. The night had taken its toll and was rapidly dragging him under.

"Of course," Sebastian brushed a few idle strands of dark hair from the boy's face as he pulled up the covers. "You've had quite a day. Rest now."

"You'll stay," Ciel's voice was muffled by the pillow. It sounded far more like a request than an order.

"As long as you need me," Sebastian smiled. "I'll be here."

Again, Ciel felt comforted despite the grim implication of the demon's words. He was, after all, only a child. And children instinctively sought protection, no matter the form it might take. Ciel was no exception.

The demon hummed soothingly, gradually lulling the exhausted boy into dreamless sleep as dawn cracked over the horizon and the new day began.

Sebastian felt his hunger pangs flare as he reveled in the vulnerability of Ciel's soul. Something he'd never truly witnessed before in the young man. How _deliciously_ tortured.

"Sleep well, young master."

 **END**

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 **A/N:** **First** **foray into the Black Butler fandom, featuring an experimental writing style. For those of you who have grown accustomed to my Supernatural offerings I apologize for whatever this is. There are still supernatural elements ;) Just to be clear, I interpret the relationship between Sebastian and Ciel as strictly business. Though I do feel Ciel sometimes mistakes the demon as a substitute for his lost family. Also the fluffy writer in me would like to think that Sebastian does care for the boy in a protective sense. Anyhoo, thanks for reading!**


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